A/N And here you go a nice looong chapter! Send me love through reviews, that is if you love the chapter...I have a feeling you will but hey, that's just me being cocky.


Previously on Never Know What She Means To Me…

"What time is it?" she asks.

"Pretty late I think. They're probably locking up by now."

"Let's go then," she says, then tries the toilet door but doesn't go out.

"What?" you ask, wondering what was taking her so long or if she had suddenly gotten cold feet and needed some more time.

"Are you okay?'

"Yeah. Yeah... No, it's not me..."

"What is it then?"

"It's the door."

You make your way to the door and try the handle. It won't budge. "It's locked," you say, glancing questioningly at Beca who has a sombre expression on her face.

"Yeah I know... We're locked in."


You don't want to freak out, but you can't believe you've managed to lock yourselves in a toilet. A toilet! How did it even happen? How is it even possible? And yet it had to happen. It has happened to you.

You don't want to accept it, but you've tried everything: jimmying the lock, talking it out and trying each and every one of your cards, banging, shouting...Beca even tried picking it with a couple of hair pins.

Several hours later you're resigned to your fate, stuck for the time being in the toilet.


"There's practically no signal in here." You're scrambling every which way. You even went as far as to try climbing on top of the marble top You even try to lean out of the bathroom window, but it has grills... How uncon-fucking-venient for you? You hate swearing, but you can't help it. You were so looking forward to a nice hot bath once you got home.

"My iPhone has got no reception, no coverage, nothing," says Beca unhelpfully.

"So we're stuck here. Until when?"

"For the night at least..."

"At least? Isn't it a working day tomorrow?"

"Uh No-I think it's some corporate holiday or something, but they'll probably have someone over to clean in the morning right?"

"Oh my God!"

"I thought you'd be glad we're stuck somewhere together..." smiling, waggling her eyebrows-trying to be all positive about the situation she'd been doing that the whole night to your irritation.

You throw a frustrated, tired glance her way and her smile shrinks a bit, "-Or not. It is happening way too frequently, isn't it?"

"I'd be happy any other place, but we are stuck in the toilet." You blow your hair away from your face. You feel so uncomfortable, so sticky.

"Hey, you want to play a game? Let's say every name that we know that people use to call washrooms." Beca bounces up clapping her hands excitedly. You know she's trying to distract you and usually you'd be grateful, find it cute even but not right now, not like this.

"Why would I do that?" you cut across harshly, allowing yourself to rest on the floor, exhausted. This is what someone with nowhere to go looks like. You literally have nowhere to go and you're dirty already, so you might as well just go with it.

"Aren't you supposed to be the one with the it-gets-better crap?"

"I can think of anything. We're stuck in the toilet, it doesn't get much crappier than this."

"Yeah, at least if one of us needs to take a crap we've got it covered."

"Sooo not funny."

"Lighten up. We're okay, everything will be okay." Beca nudges you, sidling up to you, then sits down so that you're both leaning against the wall. You let your head rest and fall onto her shoulder and she doesn't flinch or move at all at the weight. She even rests her head atop of yours- an action that slowly makes everything, all the negativity, leak out of you. You finally let it out expelling it in one large, long, sigh; allowing yourself to further relax into your position.

"Lavatory," you murmur, acceding to the game. Might as well make the most of the situation.

"What?" Beca asks softly, lifting her head looking to see if you were still miffed.

"British, you know. Lav for short?"

"Oh... We're playing now. Okay, British...Um, the loo," Beca says sounding relieved.

"W.C?" you say unsure.

"Water Closet... Okay, uh restroom."

"Bathroom?" you ask but Beca nods.

"Yeah it's counted."

"Washroom," she says after a beat.

"Ladies room," you fire back instantly.

"Men's room," Beca says just as quickly, smirking.

"Powder room," you say excitedly. Okay this was fun.

"The John."

"The Jakes." You're answering rapidly, pushing your brain to stay ahead. You don't know what the point of this game is, or if there's even a prize, but hell you aren't going to lose once you've started. The prize better be good... Hmm, the two of you alone in a room with nothing to do… You'd probably come up with all kinds of interesting fun activities to alleviate boredom.

Fun activities with the two of you alone eh?

You're liking this picture you're painting.

You resume; get your head back in the game with renewed vigour. Feeling highly encouraged, "Urinal."

"The head"

"I don't think I've heard of that one."

"It's used by the military, the navy and coastguard - even the marines. A little trivia. They refer to it as such because way back when, the bathrooms were positioned at the bow of the ships."

"Okay. Um, I hear somewhere before that the army and the air force call it the latrine...I don't know why."

"Commode."

"Privy"

"Outhouse" You don't know where all her information is coming from, but you however… You may or may not have started reading the thesaurus whenever you were in the crapper.

"The crapper."

"The shitter."

"Uh, -little girl's room? You can't say little boy's room."

"And why not?"

"Well you did the same thing with ladies room and men's room, you can't do that twice."

"We have rules now?"

"Yeah we're making it up as we go along," you say breezily, smiling, feeling your triumph at hand.

"I came up with the game..." Beca huffs, getting to her feet.

"And so?" you ask suddenly irritated.

"I should be the one in charge of the rules," she says pompously.

"Fine, whatever. So I suppose you automatically win then?" You stand up only to enjoy staring her down.

"What? No! I won fair and square..."

"I should win...And no you didn't!"

"Are you saying I cheated?"

"How do I know you weren't using the dictionary on you iPhone?"

"I wasn't...I don't need to cheat to win...Maybe I should be accusing you of cheating."

"I would never cheat on you!" you shout angrily and the two of you pause to consider what you just uttered. "I mean I would never cheat against you. Is that right?" You're mulling this over...Huh how'd that slip out? When you take a quick glance at Beca she's trying not to smile, but then she catches you looking at her and her smile's suddenly there and your lips follow unconsciously. Then you break into laughter and Beca's joining you, perhaps realizing at the same time how truly idiotic you both were being.

"It's a tie then?" Beca says as you both recover. She takes your hand and leads you back to the floor to resume your previous seating positions. This time, she leans on your shoulder.

"Okay, no more games. I didn't realise we were both so competitive..." She hasn't let go of your hand, but she doesn't do anything with it either. Your hand and her hand. They're both just resting on top of the other. You don't feel like moving it. It's pressed almost in prayer.

Your mind recalls a scene from Romeo and Juliet when they first met, when they first kissed. One of the most tragic, but the most memorable love stories of all time had started with a simple action of their two hands touching. Your mind drifts, imagining Beca and you in the place of Romeo and Juliet…

ROMEO CHLOE "If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." you say glancing lovingly, completely enthralled, into Beca's eyes loving the feeling of her hands in yours.

You covered Shakespeare's works once in class and you had read for Juliet once before in a play, but in this occasion you really felt like the Romeo in the relationship and Beca was your ladylove. Romeo was trying to convince Juliet to kiss him, to take notice of him, to want him. Sound familiar?

When you close your eyes you can clearly imagine the two of you all dressed up in the Elizabethan garbs. You can imagine Beca wearing the famous vermillion velvet gown, embroidered with silk, gemstones and pearls, the one from Franco Zeffirelli's "Romeo and Juliet". You loved that version of the movie more than the one with Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio.

And you, you imagine in a slightly more feminine version of Romeo's outfit, minus the breeches and the sword, but including the gray-blue puffy/poofy sleeves, 'cos you can totally rock those.

JULIET BECA "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this;For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." she says as the two of you join hands as though in prayer. You see the faint blush on Beca's cheeks from the simple action.

ROMEO CHLOE "Have not saint's lips, and holy palmers too?" You counter, leaning close- while she looks everywhere but at you.

JULIET BECA "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. " she says softly, her eyes downcast

ROMEO CHLOE "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

JULIET BECA "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." she says trying to deter you from kissing her. But you have every intent to-

ROMEO CHLOE "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." you say, laying a short sweet kiss upon your Juliet

JULIET BECA's eyes slowly flutter open, they're still dazed when she says, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took."

ROMEO CHLOE "Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!Give me my sin again." You're leaning in again, for what you hope is a much longer kiss-


"Chloe?" Beca shakes you, snapping you out of it. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if you were falling asleep, or if it was a seizure or something. You started drooling."

"Yeah...sorry about that." You wipe your mouth with a tissue. Okay you really had a wild imagination, or was that a dream. Whatever it was, it had seemed so real. You shake your head slowly trying to clear your head. "What were we saying? Oh, being competitive. Yeah I have to constantly be on my toes with a friend like Aubrey."

"Yeah she's pretty okay, she's just very tough on the outside. I get it she's strong in order to be protective of the things, of the people she loves." You're smiling at that, Beca complementing Aubrey and Aubrey taking a liking to Beca. She didn't have to say it, but you knew Beca had finally passed her test. You're so happy your plan had worked. Even if it wasn't as top-secret as you wanted it to be.

"She's very protective of me." You smile wryly, remembering all the times that Aubrey had gone too far, staying faithful to her duty of protecting you.

"Yeah I get that," Beca says looking straight into your eyes. "You're worth getting protective over," she says shyly. You're smiling, touched. You feel the heat in your face, wondering bewilderedly what had come over Beca.

"Aw that's sweet," you say smiling gratefully at her.

"So uh, did you want a prize?" Beca asks, averting her eyes, then laughing back to her usual unserious self. She seems to always shy away, stay as far as possible from compliments and moments like that.

"How about we both get to choose what the next activity is?" you propose,

"Okay, you first." Beca says. You're seriously considering putting forward your earlier idea. Let's just have sex, but instead you blurt out..."I meant what I said, I want to know you Beca."

"You know a lot about me already." Beca snorts, not taking your request seriously but as soon as she looks up and quickly reads the expression on your face she pauses, thinking about it. It takes that one look for her to see, to get what exactly it is you want from her.

You're pushing it-you're being pushy- just like she said you were at times, and you know you should just be happy with what you have so far, but you can't help wanting to know everything, as much as possible about her.

"Okay... What is it that you want to know?" she asks apprehensively. Her eyes are glittering, but you're not sure what you're reading in them.

"Something... you've never told anyone." you slowly say, all the while keeping an eye on Beca. Her eyebrows furrow.

She's quiet and you can almost hear the cogs turning in her head as she seriously considers opening up and giving you what you're asking of her.

"I know it's not easy, but I won't judge or anything. I'm just here to listen."

"I don't know..." She's started fidgeting; bouncing her knee, chewing at her lip.

She keeps looking back at you, her eyes meeting yours intensely, her mouth opening; seemingly ready to speak but she quickly closes it, shaking her head, then resumes her fidgeting.

"It can be anything as long as it's about you-" you say after Beca keeps repeating the action several times.

"Yes. It isn't easy, it's difficult-" Beca barks out, startling you.

"Okay, we don't have to..." you backtrack immediately. It seems you really had to take baby steps with Beca.

She lets out a sigh.

"It isn't easy, it's difficult-" Beca continues much more gently. She lifts her face to you. It looks set, her mind made up "-but I want to let you in Chloe, I want you to know me..."

You nod your head slowly, afraid to respond less Beca lose her nerve and break the moment, her feeling of confidence brought by this odd place of sanctuary.

"Okay, you wanted to know something about me, something I've never told anyone."

You quickly smile in encouragement, firmly gripping her hand. She smiles weakly at the gesture, quickly squeezing it back.

Why was she so solemn? This was going to be big wasn't it? She looks scared. You almost want to take it back, to ask another question, propose another activity.

Yeah. You probably should, you're thinking after watching Beca resume bouncing her knee again. You finally place your hand atop it to still all movement.

You already had enough drama for the evening- more like early morning judging by the little you can see from the window. You're about to tell Beca to relax, that she's off the hook when-

"-Well, I used to uh hurt myself." You start, not expecting that at all.

"You mean..." You suddenly feel sick, your stomach clenching uncomfortably. Beca had indulged in self-mutilation, actually caused harm to herself? You are shaking all the way to your hands as you take her arms and inspect them. Your stomach unclenches when you see that they have no trace of scars whatsoever. "I don't see anything," you say, perplexed.

"Well I wouldn't put it anywhere that I expose all the time..." She lifts her shirt at the back. You don't even have it in you to feel excited at the flash of skin, because you see light faded marks on the base of her back.

"When did-" You can't really get out the words. You don't know, it's hurting you. You feel a little betrayed. Your perfect girl wasn't so perfect after all. "These scars are old," you comment aloud, laying trembling fingers across the jutted, uneven mark. But, she had cut pretty deep for it to still show.

"Remember I took a break after Broadway?" She's looking at you to acknowledge, to know these things. She does know that you're a devoted fan after all...

"Yeah for almost two years..."

"How was life for you when you were ten?" You aren't sure where this conversation is going, but you play along.

"Well a lot of firsts: first kiss by a boy, first punching of said boy, first starring role in a play, first dance recital."

"You can say it was pretty eventful."

"Why, how was it for you?" you ask cautiously.

"The year after I turned ten was the year my Dad left and never came back and those two years after away from Broadway where bad - well it was the worst ever. I went back to normal school to try my hand at a normal life. The kids weren't too nice to me. Turns out being a Broadway kid didn't mean anything to the kids our age. They said some really hurtful, mean things. I didn't have too many friends. Kids can be so mean, you know. It really messed me up for a while there." Her face has become impassive. Her eyes are empty, immersed in her own inner musings.

You feel yourself getting angry; on the defensive for her. What assholes, they were lucky you didn't know who they are, you swear you'd hunt each and everyone of them down and make them pay. "Well they suck. Where are they now? Probably flipping burgers or something." you say glancing her way for some sort of reaction, but all it does is cause her eyes to flash with contained emotion.

"And they all probably have less shit too deal with. No constant pressure to be an example, to be freaking perfect that I can't make a mistake. I can't act crazy or be free to do anything without it being posted online. One drunken night where I even let myself slip, let things go out of hand can get my face plastered across newspapers, be on a million TV sets everywhere."

You know that was the sacrifice of being famous, no privacy, nothing was your own anymore. And till now you thought Beca had just gotten used to it, but it seems as if you never really could. She was still mightily affected.

You're seeing Beca in a whole new light, not entirely a bad one just a different one. You see that everything about her - the aloofness, the confidence, the tough-girl I-don't-give-a-damn attitude, even the sarcasm - was just an act. She really was just a softie inside, afraid of being hurt just like everyone else.

"And I'm not the kind to even want that kind of attention. I'm not saying that I'm ungrateful, 'cos I love where I am. The influence I can use to actually spread good things, positive messages, being able to set an example to all kinds of people and I appreciate everything I've accomplished and the possibilities because of it. I just, I wish that I could stop being me for a day. Or I wish I could get one day where I could be me. Just Beca, not Beca Mitchell, or DJ B, or anyone..." Beca trails of, staring silently at the ceiling before she stands up and starts walking across the room, to stare out the window. You don't follow her, for once giving her the space she needs. From where she's seated she seems so far away, you realize that it's the furthest you'd been from each other since the two of you got stuck in here.

You rub your hands up and down your arms only just experiencing how cold it was without Beca's body next to yours. It had registered somewhere in the back of your mind that Beca was always so warm, so snuggable; perfect for snuggling.

You're still reeling, a bit taken aback...that was a lot to take in and you're still processing everything she'd said.

You said you'd wanted to know everything and that's exactly what you got. You love her and nothing's changed. Except, it's the first time that you've actually felt really sorry for her.

You want to apologize, for what though; for making things really weird, for putting her in a spot, for making her remember something so horrible. No, you want to apologize for her pain, you want to tell her that you're sorry she felt like she had no one to turn to, that she felt that hurting herself, causing the physical pain was all she could do to counter, to relieve the emotional pain; to be able to escape. But most of all, you wished you'd met earlier. You're wholeheartedly sorry that you weren't there. But it was in the past and you can't help that girl, but this girl right in front of you, you think you can.

Right now, you know she's feeling sorry for herself. Twice in one night-despite all your efforts- she's feeling downtrodden, downright depressed.

Wrong move. So much for fun activities, you've totally spoiled everything. You sit in silence, feeling a bit depressed yourself; gone completely is the promise of the lighthearted banter of earlier.

And the worse part is...you can't really think. You don't know what to say. You're supposed to be good at this, it's what you do, helping people. But you're stumped. You've emptied out all your advice, you'd already given your best speech and whatever you might come up with to say, you're sure she's not ready, that she doesn't want to hear anything yet and you don't really know how else to make her feel better.

Unless... you start singing for her. It's a pretty out there idea-almost embarrassing and stupid-given the place and the timing when you think about it. And that's saying something as you always did manage to achieve both around Beca. But she never really complained over your random, spur of the moment moments...in fact, you had a feeling she actually enjoyed your regular bouts of insanity. Well, she hasn't complained so far.

Okay here it goes. You think of singing the cheesiest song ever, knowing- hoping it'll get her to smile.

"Hey Beca...I know you're all-" you say gesturing at her, silently conveying her current state, "but can I, only if you're feeling up to it, ask another question?"

She turns to you. "Okay...shoot." she says standing up and walking over, but she opts not to sit and instead leans on one of the bathroom stall doors, waiting for your question expectantly.

She's all worn out but she's still humoring you-how can she think she was anything but perfect. You stand up as well and reach for her hand,

"Would you dance if I asked you to dance?" you ask Beca seriously.

"Uh, I'm not really feeling it right now Chlo-" she says, pulling her hand away."Why do you suddenly want to dance?" She asks confused, she isn't smiling but her eyes have lit up, her mouth twitches amused without meaning to be at your question.

You just shake your head and continue.

"Or would you run and never look back?" You're sure her brains working at overdrive, wondering why you're the one who's acting all messed up. You laugh at her expression and start singing instead of just saying the lines.

Would you cry if you saw me crying?
And would you save my soul tonight?

You stop and her mouth drops open in shock when she finally recognizes the song. Her face is as confused as ever but it also has that look that she sometimes held while regarding you, this sincere fondness making her eyes sparkle happily. She's shaking her head almost with a what-am-I-to-do-with-you expression on her face.

"Well go on..." she says, biting her lip still fighting that smile.

Would you tremble if I touched your lips?
Or would you laugh? Oh, please tell me this. She's on the verge of it you can feel it.

Now would you die for the one you love?
Oh hold me in your arms tonight.

She rolls her eyes then starts singing along,

I can be your hero baby She's following how Enriques Iglesias sounds, complete with his over-the-top airy almost nasal voice. And it has you in stitches, the both of you are warbling out the song and you're having a ball.

I can kiss away the pain You really wish you could,

I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away

Beca's eyes are on yours, pulling you in. Then she laughs, "Oh my god that was so queerballs." is all she says before she winks showing that she's teasing finally allowing herself to smile. You totally have the best ideas... well, sometimes when you're lucky.

You're up all night, to get some you're up all night to get lucky. Yes maybe now, you might get lucky.

"C'mon let's sit down." she says pulling you down with her. Her smile won't quite leave her right now, you're cross-legged on the floor facing each other, your knee against hers...she takes both your hands in hers then interlaces them.

"I was right, the acoustics in the washroom are way better we should practice here all the time..." You say, your smile growing as she's looking at your hands joined-probably thinking they fit perfectly- you know you are. You giggle a bit when Beca starts to play with your fingers.

"I thought you'd avoid spending more time than necessary in washrooms after this..." She says looking up from them,

"Well it can't be avoided, right? I'll probably be hesitant in locking the doors from now on..." Beca laughs warmly, and you join in feeling giddy when her eyes aren't leaving yours.

"Chloe, thanks for that... for pulling me out of my own thoughts."

"I'm the one who made you think about those things in the first place, I'm sorry." You say, she just shakes her head at what you said,

"You were just trying to get to know me, I chose what to tell you...and the truth is, I'm really happy that I did. Because you really do make me fee like I can tell you everything. Cos' the only time I feel like me is when I'm with you. You make me feel safe to be...me.

"I wish there were more people like you, Chloe." Beca says ducking her head, looking adorably shy.

"There are, you just need to be open to them, to possibilities. People tend to surprise you" You say lifting her head by the chin, she takes your hand again

"I'm trying to pay you a complement Miss Beale..." and you duck your head this time, letting her continue "I just want you to know that for if we don't get out."

"Why? We aren't going to die in here. I'm pretty sure they're looking for us, for you. I'm sure people will remember us going in here." You say, laughing at the idea.

"But just, I might not say this ever again after this..."She says her voice earnest, her tone urgent her eyes intent.

You completely understand. You together in a bathroom was different. Once she got outside she'd be in the public eye once again. This may be the only time that you were truly alone.

"Whatever we say in here, stays in here," you say to satiate her concerns.

"I wanted to say that I'm so glad that you're in my life... You mean a lot to me. I- " your heart thuds so hard in your chest, you're sure Beca can hear it, you're at the edge of your seat..." I " You saw something in her eyes the way she's now looking at you- alarms are going off in your head.

"I-" You're holding you're breath. Please let her say what you think she's going to say.

The door suddenly shakes.

"Beca? Are you in here? Beca Marie Mitchell?"

The two of you are looking at each other, not quite believing who had found you.

"Dad?" Beca calls back.

"Beca, yes I'm here. I've been looking everywhere for you. I'll get you out of here, I promise."


Music: Hero Enrique Iglesias

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